All The Same
by Animegirl1129
Summary: Nick POV during Fannysmackin' and Post Mortem. NickGreg established Relationship. Enjoy!
1. Fannysmackin'

**All The Same**

_Nick POV through Fannysmackin' and Post Mortem. I know, you're all sick of fics relating to those episodes but I had to finish writing it... Enjoy! Nick/Greg established relationship._

* * *

Part 1/2 

Greg was late. Not, fashionably late, or 'sorry, I stopped for coffee' late, or even 'I just got laid' late - that one usually left both of us late, but over an hour and a half late. The lack of phone calls or any other form of contact worried me, waiting impatiently for him to come home to the townhouse we had shared for over a year.

"Where are you…?" I asked, increasingly concerned with every passing moment. I paced the living room, the television muted in the background.

When another thirty minutes passed and I still hadn't heard anything from my lover, my paranoia really set in and allowed me to pick up the phone, dialing a number I could call in my sleep and prepared to chew out the younger man for making me worry.

'I'm sorry, the number you have reached is out of service. Please try back later or leave a message…' the voicemail option clicked into effect and only managed to scare me further. Our cell phones were always on. Always. We had to be in contact at all times.

Having called back three more times and reaching voicemail each time, I finally reverted to calling Grissom, he would know what was going on.

"Hey, Gris. Do you know where Greggo is? He won't answer his phone." I explained, relieved to have gotten through.

Their was a brief pause before the older man spoke again. "Nicky, Greg's in the hospital."

"What?"

"He was attacked at a crime scene."

I hadn't heard anything at all after that, making my way to the door In nothing but pajama bottoms, I hopped in my Denali, en route to Desert Palms.

* * *

"Where is he?" I spotted Catherine and Warrick in the hallway and quickly made my way to them. "Is he okay?"

Warrick sighed. "He's still being checked out. You and me need to head out to his crime scene."

I glared. "You're kidding? I can't… I can't process his scene."

"And why not?" Grissom appeared in the doorway, an inquisitive eyebrow raised.

"Ugh… we're all emotionally involved, shouldn't day shift be handling this?" I covered. No one knew about us.

"They're swamped, it falls back to us." Catherine replied. "You two, get out there."

Warrick grabbed my arm, dragging me back down the hallway. "Come on, the sooner we get there, the sooner we catch the bastards."

"And put a shirt on, Nicky!" Catherine called to us.

* * *

"This shouldn't have happened to him, not to Greg…" I whispered to myself, processing the rock by the front tire of the Denali. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, everything my lover must have been through flashing through my mind.

Warrick was trying to talk to me, 'trying' the operative word. "Nicky!" he yelled, waving his hand in front of my face. "Where's your head?"

I'd almost replied. 'With Greg, where the rest of me should be,' but I simply shook my head, returning my attention to the pool of blood my young lover had left behind.

"I think I just found a piece of Sanders' hair." Warrick sighed, picking up the small patch of sandy brown hair that was left on the pavement.

No. No, this can't be real. I shook my head again, closing my eyes. Greg's hair, the same hair that I ran my fingers through when we made love, the same hair that I'd tangle my fingers in while we slept, the younger man's head against my shoulder. I cringed at the thought of the pain my lover must be in right now and wished it had been me instead.

"So what, did somebody else get a beat down? You bitches haven't caught them cats yet?" A guy standing on the other side of the crime tape mocked us.

'I'm not in the mood for this…' I thought to myself, turning to face the man. "Excuse me?"

Warrick seemed to be more calm with the situation, then again, it wasn't his lover lying in a hospital bed, was it? "You fella's wanna keep it movin'? We're trying to work here."

The man shifted on his feet, smirking. "You call that working? There's an ass-whupping on every block."

"…Alright, that's it…" I mumbled, moving to stand in front of the idiot provoking me. "There's about to be an ass-whupping on this block."

"Oh yeah, is that right?"

"Yeah," I glared daggers into the mans skull, wishing that they would actually appear there. I'd rather process this jerks scene than my Greg's. "That's right."

Warrick, noting that the walls around us were bleeding my frustration, must have decided it was best to intervene. "Hey, man…"

Another, taller, guy approached the crime tape, obviously with some mental defect impairing his judgment, I decided. "Man, you're weak, weak, weak, weak." Both of us ignored the first idiots complaints as he was cuffed by one of the other officers. "I'm sorry, you're not weak."

"Nick…" Warrick warned me. "Nick."

"You're a joke."

I laughed, an exasperated expression crossing my face as I turned to look at my friend, the older man shaking his head, signaling me not to do whatever I was planning. Of course, I was too ticked off right now to care, wheeling around to sucker punch the guy in the stomach.

The next thing I knew, Warrick had pulled me back, and had deleted the pictures from the mans phone before shooing the crowd away. Then I was in trouble.

"What are you doing? We beatin' people up now?"

I shook my head. "I'm sick of these punks. Man, I'm serious. I'm sick of it!" Thoughts of my Greg filled my mind once again and I flinched.

Warrick released his grip on my shoulders, turning away. "Then maybe you're in the wrong town."

I shrugged as I walked back toward the car. "Maybe."

* * *

I was exhausted, we'd finally caught the mob of kids who'd been on an attack spree all night long, the ones who had hurt my Greg. However, I was quite satisfied with myself when I'd learned that the guy I'd punched at the crime scene was the leader of the group. 

We were all in the locker room now, getting ready to head out for the day.

"I am going to pick up some Roberto's, take it over to Greg. I'm sure he's sick of that hospital food. Anybody wanna come?" Sara asked a few feet away from Warrick and myself.

Warrick responded first. "I'll take a ride with you. But, ugh… I'm gonna pass on the Mexican food at ten in the morning."

I managed a laugh. "No, I'd like to see Greg. I'm definitely in. Yeah." I decided against mentioning that I wanted nothing more than to hold the younger man in my arms for the rest of our lives and never let anything bad happen to him ever again.

"Pig and the piglets are in the pigpen." Catherine announced, stepping into the room a second later.

Warrick shrugged. "'Bout time. Finally some good news."

"Did you know Pig, a.k.a Cole Tritt was the only adult? The rest were all under 18. One was 14." Catherine informed us, a statement which made my blood run cold - Kids had done this...

"You're kidding. Who raises these kids?" Warrick shook his head in disgust.

"I mean, they weren't all delinquents. Demetrius James was a college student."

"Hangin' out with the wrong crowd in the wrong town. I'm tellin' ya, havin' a fake I.D in Las Vegas is like having a--a free ticket on the hell train. Sex, drugs, gambling, no adult supervision, 24/7, by the time they're 21 they've done and seen it all." I tugged on my shoes, following Warrick's point of view rather than admit how much I wanted those kids to be in trouble for hurting someone as beautifully innocent as my Greg.

Not overly thrilled with that idea, Catherine rolled her eyes. "Make me slit my wrists, why don't ya? I'm raising a teenager here."

"Ah, you're doin' a great job, Linds is gonna turn out to be a beautiful young woman. Besides, I grew up in Vegas I didn't turn out so bad, did I?" Warrick replied.

"Yeah. That was pre-Mirage. Back when you were goin' to the casino, playin' the arcade games. Nah, Vegas is a different animal now." I sighed, not liking that idea myself either.

Warrick laughed. "Yeah, these kids need to beat people up in the street to be entertained. They need some good discipline, they need their grandmother whuppin' their ass like I had."

"Yeah, a good slap." Oh, and how much I wanted to give them just that.

"You know, it kinda sounds like you guys are blaming everyone but these kids. I mean, you don't get a bye just because you grew up here or your parents are on drugs or---those kids were perfectly capable of telling the difference between a wild night out and beating somebody to death." Sara spoke up for the first time since mentioning Greg, and I found myself agreeing more with her than I had Warrick.

Grissom's voice caused all of us to jump, none of us even aware he'd been in the room.  
"The truth is, a moral compass can only point you in the right direction, it can't make you go there. Our culture preaches that you shouldn't be ashamed of anything you do anymore. And unfortunately this city is built on the principle that there's no such thing as guilt. 'Do whatever you want, we won't tell.' So without a conscience, there's nothing to stop you form killing someone. And evidently you don't even have to feel bad about it."

The philosophical rant had ended the debate, the five of us leaving the locker room in favor of heading toward our own cars to drive to the hospital.

* * *

I was the last of us to get to see our injured comrade, which was of my own choosing. I didn't want to have to leave him in favor of someone else's turn. 

"He's asking for you, Nicky." Warrick nodded to me, as he and Catherine exited room 221.

I was at the door in seconds, poking just my head into the door. I had yet to see what they those bastards had done to my lover. "Greggo?"

I saw him reach out and wordlessly I complied, crossing the room in three steps and carefully folding him into my arms, with no intention of letting go anytime in the near future.

He was crying, his fingers weakly clutching at my shirt, his face buried against the curve of my neck. "I… I was so scared…" he whimpered.

"Shh… you're fine now, baby. You're safe." I wanted to see what they'd done to him, how much damage they'd done. I tried to pull away, but Greg clung tighter to me.

He shook his head against my chest. "No… just hold me. Don't let go."

I nodded, shifting until I sat beside him on the bed, letting him fall back against me, knowing that this was the first time since it had happened that he'd let himself truly fall apart, not like he had with Grissom, this was different. "How could anyone do this to someone as beautiful as you…?" I pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head, able to see most of him now.

His eyes looked to be swollen shut, I was no longer sure if he could even see me at all. Purple and yellow bruises covered every inch of exposed skin, and undoubtedly what the thin hospital gown hid. He had a busted lip and his left elbow and right wrist were wrapped in bandages. After all of that, I didn't want to know what else those heartless teenagers had done.

"He died."

"What?"

"The guy I hit, he died not long before you all showed up. I watched him flat line. His family was devastated." Greg mumbled, his voice distorted with his own tears. "I killed him, Nicky."

I rocked him in my arms, wondering why on earth Greg had been in the next room when that had happened. "It wasn't your fault. You did what had to be done. If I had been in your shoes I would have done the same thing."

My young lover was heartbroken and there was nothing I could do to help him right now except keep him calm. He whimpered, mumbling things I couldn't make out against my t-shirt, as I ran my fingers through his hair, his hands shaking violently. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"Baby, you're okay now. You saved a mans life. You're here, in my arms, you're safe, Greggo." I assured him, letting him cry himself to sleep in my arms.

We stayed like that for some time, his soft snoring calming me, knowing that he was finally getting some rest.

However, that air of calmness was short lived, one of the nurses on the floor coming in to check on my Greg. Unfortunately, this meant that he would be awakened. "Do you have to?" I asked softly. "He finally fell asleep…"

Sighing apologetically, the woman spoke. "We have him scheduled for an x-ray. We'll get him back here quickly."

I nodded, carefully maneuvering the younger man out of my arms before gently waking him.

"Mmmm… what, Nicky?"

"They wanna get you an x-ray. You have to wake up." I told him.

He groaned, forcing himself back into consciousness as the nurse took him away from me. The twenty minutes he was gone allowed me a chance to process everything that had happened today. I honestly didn't know how Greg was still even mildly sane, I didn't know how he could do it, be that strong after all that he'd been through. He'd asked me that question after I'd been rescued, but I guess I haven't really understood it until now.

Before I knew it, Greg was back in the room, settling back in amongst the blankets, reaching out to me again.

"How'd it go?" I asked, reclaiming my spot beside him.

"Sheer brilliance, that is… Bending an injured arm at awkward angles…" he whimpered softly. "It's not broken, though."

I held him close, nodding. "That's good news. You didn't deserve any of this…"

He pulled away from me, shifting out of my arms. "Maybe… maybe, you shouldn't hold me right now…"

"What? You- don't want me to?" I was taken aback by his request, he'd never asked that of me before.

"No, no. Of course I want you to. I never want you to let go of me… But, I know how you feel about the others knowing about us. And people have been coming in and out of here… someone's bound to figure it out, especially since knocking isn't really a priority." He explained his reasoning and I finally saw the idiocy in my fear of telling the others. I really didn't care who knew about us right now, I wasn't letting go of him.

I shook my head, my arms carefully encircling his torso again. "So let them find out. You're infinitely more important to me."

He actually smiled, not one of those 'I'm fine, leave me alone' smiles or the fake ones that I'd plastered on my face after my kidnapping, but one of his real, thousand watt, 'could light up a room' smiles.

And, I knew then that somehow we'd get through this together because my Greg was still here.

* * *

It took almost a week for Greg to be released, and by then he was more than ready to come home. I'd volunteered to pick him up at the hospital, though I did have to fight Sara for it. As soon as I could that morning I was waiting for him, I'd been without him longer than I ever wanted to and I couldn't wait to have him home with me again. 

"Nicky?" The familiar voice greeted me as I stepped into the room. "Can we go?"

I nodded, handing him the bag of clothes I'd brought for him. "As soon as you change we can leave."

He looked down, not making eye contact with me. "Can… can you help me?"

Realizing my idiocy, I quickly moved to his side, helping him out of the hospital gown. With some difficulty we got him into a pair of my sweatpants and my old college hoodie that Greg always stole from me, the clothes baggy on his slighter frame.

An hour after filing out the required paper work, we were making our way inside of the townhouse we shared, helping him in the door.

"You glad to be home?" I asked him, as we settled down on the couch, Greg curled up in my arms.

"I'm glad to be here with you."


	2. Post Mortem

**All The Same**

_Nick POV during Fannysmackin' and Post Mortem. Characters not mine. Enjoy!

* * *

_

Part 2/2--

The next few weeks passed so quickly… Before I knew it, Greg was back in the field, and his bruises were healing. At least the physical ones anyway…

Needless to say, my lover was nervous about the upcoming Coroner's Inquest. And it figured entirely… out of all the CSI's, I was the one chosen to testify. Meaning, I couldn't be with Greg in the courtroom.

The Inquest was in less than twenty-four hours and my Greggo was hysterical. He spent the better part of the night in my arms, outright sobbing until he cried himself to sleep, my reassurances falling on deaf ears.

"It wasn't your fault. You did what had to be done…" I told him repeatedly, rocking him gently in my arms.

The few hours he did sleep seemed to be plagued with nightmares, and I watched as he constantly relived those few moments over and over again, that decision haunting his mind even as he slept. He'd wake up abruptly, in a cold sweat, and I watched him break down all over again.

"It'll be over soon, baby, you'll see…" I assured him. God, I hoped I was right.

Before I knew it, the alarm started blaring from the bedside table, pulling Greg out of his sleeping-pill induced state. "It's time to get up already?" He whimpered, the lack of sleep weighing heavily on him.

Reluctantly I nodded, though I refused to release him from my arms for several more minutes.

* * *

We made it to the courthouse right on time, the two of us standing together outside of the room. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"I wish you could come in…" He whimpered, his sleep-deprived form leaning against my shoulder, my arm around him to keep him standing.

"I do, too."

Before I could expand on that statement, the ADA approached us. "Mr. Sanders, we're about to start." She nodded to me and turned back inside.

"You better head in." I told him, resisting the urge to press my lips to his one more time before we were separated.

He nodded solemnly, wordlessly walking into the room and taking his seat on the wrong side of the aisle, I stared after him until the doors were closed, leaving Sofia, Doc Robbins and I in the hallway, before we were escorted to another room.

* * *

Before I knew it, both of my colleagues had testified and it was soon my turn, after being led to the courtroom, I braced myself for whatever was to come. I had to be strong for my Greg's sake. I'd answer the questions, finish with all of this and it would be that much sooner that I'd have Greg back.

I was sworn in and took my place on the witness stand.

"These glass fragments are from the mob breaking out the windows of CSI Sanders' Denali." I gestured to the photo that was acting as a visual aid for the jurors, though I silently wished this trial had taken place when bruises still covered my lover's face and body, that would damn well be a visual aid. "That's how they dragged him out."

I moved on to the next photo, one of the one's that made my blood boil. "This is a clump of his hair, torn from his scalp." Next picture. "And that's the rock Demetrius James used as a weapon."

"According to who?" One of the jurors spoke up, I noticed Greg roll his eyes, and I could pretty much asses that this guy had been a constant pain. "This is the first we've even heard that Demetrius James had a weapon."

I started to answer but the ADA beat me to it. "In his report, Mr. Sanders testified to that fact. The

rock was found at the scene."

"How do we know the cops didn't plant it there?" Mr. Annoying-Juror couldn't quit while he was ahead, damn conspiracy theorist.

The Judge also seemed irritated by the interruption. "Sir, I've warned you."

"I'd like to answer that question." I spoke up, allowing my resentment toward this bastard for even insinuating that my Greg had been anything but justified in his actions. "Usually, when someone plants a weapon, whoever did it puts it right beside the body -- in this case, the rock was found

near the front tire of the Denali. Skid marks suggest it was dropped upon impact."

Does this fool have a mute button, some idiot thought he knew more about Forensics than we did, only later did I learn that the man had coerced Doc Robbins into using the word 'homicide' in relation to Greg's actions, not exactly helpful to the jury...

"A rock against two tons of steel?"

"No." I glared. "More like one man against an extremely violent, out-of-control mob." My lover against a bunch of murderers. I saw Demetrius' brother shake his head in disgust at my statement. The innocent card that family was playing was complete and total bull.

"What's department policy in a situation like that?" Like hell if this guy knew anything about department policy. I tried to keep as calm as I could, and, granted I wasn't going to win any awards for my performance, I managed to refrain from proving my skill at my job to him, I assure you, they never would have found the body.

"It has always been department policy not to harm innocent civilians." The mob lacked that qualification, emphasis on 'innocent'. "You call for backup, you try to be a good witness, and you stay out of the way." I replied, hoping this would end soon; I just wanted to be able to hold Greg in my arms right now.

Still, the juror continued. "So what makes it okay to start running over people?"

I was losing it, now. "Well, when those people are wearing masks, running around beatin' people up."

"Man, DJ was going to a costume party." That was Aaron, and I found myself glaring. Yes, white out contacts, some costume. Not to mention he'd missed Halloween by about a week and a half.

I sat up straight, started messing with my tie, as I leaned back, my eyes locked with my Greg's. "One victim was dead. Another was seriously injured. Another, fatality imminent. I'd say the use of deadly force in this case was consistent with department policy, absolutely." My love nodded, in silent thanks and the jackass juror had finally shut up, only because DJ's family was about to start on their own tirade.

"Demetrius James was going to finish off the victim with the rock." The ADA continued, hoping to move on.

"You're a liar!" The boy's mother screamed.

"My brother wasn't a killer!" And Greg was? Such fascinating logic there…

The next several minutes were devoted to controlling the shouting in the room, I was escorted out, though I did hear the beginnings of the mother's ramblings about how perfect her son was, how he never could have done any of this.

* * *

I didn't see him again till the jury took a break, the trial stopping for a brief amount of time. He'd been talking with Sofia when I'd spotted him.

"I just want to be able to sleep again…" I heard him say.

As soon as she was out of sight, I pulled him away from the crowd of camera's and reporters. "Greggo…" He didn't hesitate at all, burying his head against my shoulder as he cried. My lover didn't deserve any of this hell. He was so innocent, so young; he shouldn't be going through this.

He looked up at me with tears in his beautiful eyes. "Why is this happening? Why did it all have to go wrong? The judge let his family testify…" I knew I wasn't supposed to be hearing the details of this, despite the fact that I'd already testified, but it's not like I could just tell him to stop talking. "I'm a killer, Nicky… I killed someone."

"Stop that." I ordered, my hand covering his. "There's nothing you could have changed. That kid chose to go around town beating people up. He chose not to run away. And he chose to try and attack you. His choices caused his death, not yours. That kid had his family snowed; either that or they really are that arrogant that they think he was perfect. I could have lost you, because of that kid who decided to have some fun and kill some time by beating up innocent people like you."

"I just want all of this to be some dream, I want to wake up and not remember what happened." He whimpered, his hands grabbing fistfuls of my shirt, his tears staining the suit.

I held him for several moments, silently comforting him, until his body stopped shaking and he regained enough control to look up at me. "Baby, it'll all be over soon, you'll see."

"I don't think I'd be able to get through this without you…"

"You won't ever have to find out, will you, love?" I pressed a kiss to the side of his head, running my fingers through his hair. I caught sight of my watch, realizing the break in the trial was nearly over. "Greggo, you need to get back. Grissom called me back to the lab, but I'll be here as soon as possible, alright?"

My lover nodded, rubbing his eyes as he pulled away. "Okay."

I kissed him again, before walking him back to the doors to the courtroom. "You'll see." I repeated, giving him a gentle push toward the doors.

* * *

I had no idea why Grissom wanted to see me, but I doubted it was good news. I made my way into the locker room, planning to ditch the suit I'd worn to court.

"Hey," Warrick appeared in the doorway, he was picking up Grissom's habit of ghost-like stealth. Able to just randomly materialize out of nowhere.

Exchanging my button-down shirt for a normal one, I replied, mumbling an barely coherent, "Hey."

He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against his own locker. "How'd it go in there?"

"I don't know."

"Really?"

I nodded. "Yeah." I really wasn't sure anymore, after that idiot juror had started interfering it all kind of went downhill.

Warrick slumped down onto the bench beside me. "You know, I know it was a hardcore situation that Greg ran up on, but you think it ever would have occurred to him to just put it in reverse and get the hell out of there?"

"Well, that's not the question. What a jury wants to know is did Greg do what any reasonable person would have done under the circumstances." I would have done it, I know that much. In fact, I'd wished it was me instead of Greg several time in the last month.

Seeming to accept that answer, he nodded. "I know Greg must have been scared as hell, man."

You think so? I never would have guessed that one… Currently he was still scared as hell and he was getting no sleep. I needed an idea, something that could swing the jury back to our side. "What can we do to help him?"

"We'll put the jury behind the wheel of the car."

Looking over at him, I smiled, following him out of the room. We had a plan!

* * *

We spent quite a bit of time setting up the crime scene re-enactment, getting all the figures worked out and programming the black boxes in the Denali into the computers. Once everything was where it should be, we stepped back, working it all out.

"All right, the Denali's black box reports only five seconds before impact. Now, Greg was idling with his foot on the brake. And then he accelerated for no more than two seconds." He read the conclusions off as I looked over his shoulder at the computer scan.

I nodded, stepping away. "Yeah, according to the acceleration skid marks, the front end went from

there to there with D.J. coming at him."

"Want to give it a go?" Warrick nodded toward the car. I started forward, removing the cone from it's spot at the front bumper. "Take it for a spin?"

"Yeah," I nodded, climbing into the driver's seat and starting the car as Warrick set the timer on the laptop.

"You ready?"

"Ready."

"Go." I stomped on the gas, sending the car to the second cone marking where D.J. had fallen. "Stop!" He approached me once I'd turned the car off.

I shook my head at the results we'd gotten, feeling like I'd truly been put in Greg's shoes. "With this kid running at him the whole time, there's no way Greg could have avoided hitting him." Of course, I had backed my lover's play on that since this whole thing started…

"You think a jury will see it that way?" He questioned. I'd been in that room. I wasn't sure what that jury would see.

* * *

"Nick!" Grissom's voice forced me away from thoughts of Greg as I passed his office. The older man seated in the chair behind his desk, thumbing through several files.

I poked my head in the room. "Yeah, Gris?" Shit, I'd forgotten he was the one that called me back to the lab in the first place.

He gestured for me to come in, which I did, taking a seat in the chair across from him. "How was court?"

Oh no, it was that tone. The one that told me he had some ulterior motive in this conversation. "What have you heard about it?"

"That you made rookie mistakes on the stand. You let the lawyers get to you on cross. Nicky, you know better than that…" He criticized me, removing his glasses to look directly at me.

I knew I'd made some mistakes on the stand. I had allowed the inferences that my lover was a criminal to get to me, the glares and pure hatred radiating off of Demetrius' family doing nothing to ease my mind. "I know, Gris…"

"So what was wrong?" He continued. "I know it's weird with one of our own on the wrong side of this case. We know Greg did everything he could. You should've kept your cool."

"It's not that easy…" I growled, I took a few seconds to calm down. Screaming at Grissom that the idea of my Greg in any kind of danger scared me to death would not help this conversation in the least.

"Why not?"

Okay, granted that Greg and I had been fooling the team for the last several months, they should have at least picked up on it lately. Not that we'd been making out in the hallway or anything, but we spent more time around each other and if Greg started to lose it, I was the one there to help him. Then again, this was Grissom I was talking to. A man who made an ogre look like a social butterfly.

"Nicky?" It was then that I realized that I'd been silent for several minutes now, my supervisor now attempting to revert my attention. "Something on your mind?"

"I screwed up on the stand because I couldn't take that kid's family treating Greg like the people we lock up. He doesn't deserve to be treated like that." I answered, forcing myself to look up. "He's not sleeping. He's miserable. He's still in pain. And there's nothing else I can do except watch him fall apart and try to pick up the pieces for him."

I watched Grissom lower his glasses and pinch the bridge of his nose, processing my rant. "Nick, he's not your responsibility. We can't take back what happened, but we need to let him move on by himself."

"You don't understand, Gris…"

"Then make me understand."

I but my lip, letting out a puff of air. "Greg and I have been living together for a while now. He is my responsibility because I want him to be. I need him. I need to be with him right now, he's close to his breaking point, and I can't even sit in the damn court room with him while the family of the person who tried to take him from me make him feel like he's worth absolutely nothing."

Grissom blinked several times in shock, staring at me as if observing one of his experiments. "You and Greg?" I nodded, daring him to challenge that. "I think you should get back to the courthouse, then. The Judge will be calling for a break soon."

"Thanks, Gris." I replied, turning back to the door.

"Nicky?" He called. "Don't screw it up."

* * *

I stood, my eyes scanning the crowd of people dispersing from the court room, searching for the head of sandy brown hair I could recognize anywhere. Greg was one of the last ones to walk out, I noted, finally spotting him as he tried to avoid the camera's swarming the lobby.

Before any of those media-wolves could get to him, I slung an arm around his shoulder, leading him down one of the hallways. "You doing okay?"

"Yeah. Fine." He nodded, refusing to look me in the eye. My arm accidentally brushed one of his fading bruises causing him to flinch, I cursed myself for forgetting about that one, pulling him down to sit beside me on the bench we'd found.

"You know I can tell when you're upset, right?" I prodded, though I probably shouldn't have. "I know you well enough to know when everything's not fine."

"Then why'd you ask?" Greg replied, chocolate colored eyes still on the floor. "I just want this all to be over and done."

"So do I, baby." I whispered, running my fingers through his hair. "Warrick and I set up a recreation of the crime scene, we know you didn't have any choice in what you did. Maybe now the jury can see it, too."

Finally, he looked up at me. "You went back to the alley?"

I nodded, "Yeah. We did. Why?"

"When this is over, I want to go back there again." He admitted. Noting my startled expression he explained. "You know, I've had to drive past there three times since then, I detoured so far around it… I need to go back. Face my fear."

"I can definitely understand that, Greggo." After my abduction, confined spaces and I did not mix well. Greg had literally been forced to drag me into an elevator once, to a crime scene on the top floor of one of the UNLV buildings. He had his arms wrapped around me the entire time, and after that I was fine. "You want me to go?"

He nodded, "And… during the day…"

"Yeah," I agreed, standing up again, the break wouldn't last much longer. "Why don't you go splash some water on your face, calm down before your testimony."

"I wish you could be there. If his family can protest every single thing I do in my own defense, you should be able to, too." Greg smiled faintly, walking beside me as we made our way to the men's room.

I smiled back, glad to see it back on my lovers face if only for a moment. "You know I'd be right there beside you if I could be, right?"

"I know." He nodded, stepping into bathroom. I leaned against the counter as he washed his hand and leaned down to wet his face. The sound of the heavy metal door opening normally would have drawn my attention, but my gaze was fixed on Greg, looking as if he'd just seen a ghost in the mirror.

"How tough you feel when you're not in your big SUV, huh?" Aaron James' voice demanded, glaring daggers at my Greg. My lover looked terrified, staring at the reflection of DJ's brother in the glass. When Greg said nothing, Aaron spoke again, advancing, seeming to have overlooked my presence. "I asked you a question, Killer."

Greg turned to look, at either him or me, I'm not sure because I stepped between them. "Sir, do you really want to spend the next twenty four hours in a holding cell for threatening a CSI?" Oh, I'd make sure he spent one hell of a lot more time there if he posed any further risk to my Greggo, not that I wanted him on the streets now.

Aaron laughed at me, still looking over my shoulder at Greg who had still said nothing. "You all look after your own, don't you?" He spat, shaking his head at me when he realized I had no intention of moving.

"Listen to me." I growled, my hatred for this man flaring. "If you do anything to put him in danger in any way I will not hesitate to have you arrested immediately. Got it?"

He smirked. "Whatever…"

Aaron laughed as he left the room, leaving me with Greg again. Wordlessly I pulled the younger man back into my arms.

"Thanks, Nicky…" He whispered against my shoulder.

Reluctantly, I glanced at my watch, realizing the Greg needed to be back soon. "You have to go, baby. I'll be there when you get out." I promised, kissing him quickly before ducking out of the room.

* * *

Greg was being sworn in when I took a seat in the back of the room, hidden amongst random others who'd gained entrance to the Inquest, knowing I shouldn't be ther ebut unable to leave Greg at the mercy of the people ready to crucify him. "In the cause now pending before this court, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?"

"I do." Greg nodded.

"Be seated."

"Alright." ADA Nichols started. "Let's take a look at the official transcript of your call for backup." She pressed a button, the transcript of the call to Dispatch appearing on the screen. "01:54 and 21 seconds, Dispatch Control answers. Would you please read your response?"

I watched as Greg shifted slightly in his seat, "'Control, Control, this is CSI Sanders. I need some help.'" He read aloud, and I could just see his mind go back to that night all over again. Like it did when he had nightmares when we were lying in bed together, I could always tell when he was back in that alley.

She continued, scrolling down through the text on screen. "You took a couple of seconds to look at the street signs. There's a few more exchanges and then dispatch tells you: "Closest unit has a

five minute ETA." Five minutes. Control continues-- "Rolling Code 3. Are they armed?" Please read your response."

"I don't know, I don't know. Ma'am, please, listen.They gotta get here quicker than this…" He was still trapped in the memory, he wasn't even looking at the screen, he had it memorized, as did I.

"What's you do?" The ADA questioned.

Greg sighed. "I thought I'd try to break up the mob. I turned into the alley, hit the horn, yelled, anything."

"Did that stop the beating?"

"Not entirely. One guy decided not to run away. Instead, he turned around, picked up a rock…" Greg's eyes scanned the courtroom, looking for someone he knew to comfort him, met with a crowd a mostly unfamiliar faces, until his gaze fell on me. I nodded subtly, urging him on. "And moved like he was going to finish off the victim. But he turned and started coming at me with it."

Aaron stood up from his seat in the front row. "Oh, come on, that's just his word, man. His word against my brother's word!" Yeah, that held had a hell of a lot of credibility. Murderer against CSI. Murderer against victim.

"Mr. James…" ADA Nichols warned.

"You know, we can't get his side, now can we?"

"Alright… Your Honor?" She scoffed incredulously, looking to the Judge.

Unfortunately, the Judge did not share her feelings for the disruption. "Ms. Nichols. The man has a right to speak." He replied, looking to the victim's brother. I had to roll my eyes at that. He could speak but I couldn't defend my lover… Ah, sweet justice…

However, hushed mumblings of "C'mon. Sit down. C'mon," from Marla James diverted her sons attention and allowed Greg to proceed.

"At this point, did you fear for your life?" The ADA continued where she left off, turning back to Greg.

Stupid question. "Yes."

"Did you have a weapon? A gun?"

"No," Greg replied. He still refused to carry, despite my efforts to convince him.

She nodded. "What were you thinking when D.J. left Stanley Tanner's unconscious body and ran at you with that rock?"

"I thought that he could make me his net target. I thought he wanted to kill me. No matter what, I knew that I had to incapacitate him." He replied, eyes flickering in my direction for a few seconds.

The ADA changed the slide again, to the presentation Warrick and I had prepared. Lab Rat Greg, who still hid under CSI Greg, seemed impressed. 'I like to make a presentation' He'd told me once before we got together.

"Now it's taken us several minutes to go through the events of that night. And I'm sure that you've all formed some kind of opinion about what happened. But, right now, let's put ourselves in Mr. Sanders' position. Let's see how much time Greg had to save a man's life." She started the computer generated program, which was over in a matter of seconds. "Seconds. Mere seconds. What would you have done? Mr. Sanders, was it your intention to kill Demetrius James?"

Greg shook his head. "No. I wish he hadn't come at me. I wish that he had just run away."

It was almost over, I sighed in relief. Greg didn't need much more of this nonsense.

"Mr. Sanders ... aren't you leaving something out?" Judge Trueblood questioned, catching me of guard.

"I don't think so…" Greg was apparently just as startled as I was with the interrogation.

Trueblood, however, didn't seem to care, as he continued. "You testified at a criminal trial earlier that day, didn't you?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"ADA Ulrich must've been pleased with your testimony. She took you to dinner at the Tillerman. I'm looking at a copy of her credit card receipt. How was the sea bass? And the bottle of Pinot Grigio Santa Margherita 2005. How was that?" I stared at the Judge, shocked. So much for professional courtesy… Trueblood was definitely out for blood.

"Your Honor…" ADA Nichols protested.

"I ... wasn't on shift, and I only had …" Greg stuttered, and I silently begged him not t fall into this trap.

Trueblood ignored the ADA's concerns, looking from my lover to the jury. Ah, I noted, potential voters. That explained a lot. "Mr. Sanders, I'm sure the jury's wondering, if you hadn't been drinking before going to work, would Demetrius James still be alive?"

I locked eyes with Greg, giving him a smile, telling him he could do this, and I knew he could. "Alcohol wasn't ... a factor. ADA Ulrich insisted on ordering the wine. I drank half a glass. About six ounces. At my weight, 150, that would give me a blood-alcohol content of .02. Even without food, the alcohol burn-off rate would be .015 per hour ... meaning that there was no alcohol in my bloodstream after ninety minutes, well before I reported for my shift and about ... seven hours before the incident." He answered confidently, recalling statistics that I myself had helped him memorize when he was training in the field.

I felt like cheering, as the Judge was forced to eat his own words, his accusation effectively sent down in flames by Greg's cool handling of the situation.

* * *

Only a few more questions were asked before the jury was sent off to discuss the case, the Judge dismissing the room until they came back.

Greg found me in the hallway, smiling from ear to ear. Once we were out of sight, I pulled him into my arms again. "You were awesome!" I congratulated him.

"I had an excellent teacher," He laughed, as we walked across the street to one of the café's to get a bite to eat, neither of us had eaten anything since last night. "I wish I had gone to dinner with you that night, you know."

"You forget that I was already on the case when you got out of court, love." I reminded him, he shrugged and gripped my hand tighter as we took seats at one of the tables.

* * *

Nearly an hour passed before the jury returned, Greg seated in the front of the room, myself once again hidden in the back.

"I understand the jury has reached a verdict?" Trueblood asked.

"We have, Your Honor." A woman sitting at the front of the group responded. "We, the jury in this inquest, find the death of Demetrius James excusable."

A flood of murmured reactions filled the room as everyone was dismissed and I could see ADA Nichols muttering something about the difference between 'excusable' and 'justifiable' as I approached them.

"It's okay… I think they may have it right." Greg whispered solemnly gathering his things so we could leave.

* * *

We stepped out of the courthouse and were immediately surrounded by news cameras. The Juror from hell, as I had so cleverly dubbed him beside a channel 8 van, a microphone in his face. "Look, look, I got nothing against Mr. Sanders personally, but all these inquests ever really seem to do is protect the cops." I snorted, these things were designed to look into -questionable- deaths at the hands of county officials. Greg shouldn't have been included in that group. I steered him around a few other camera's, passing the evil judge Trueblood.

"As I've emphasized during my campaign, the public deserves the truth about any death at the hands of law enforcement." Yup, running for office… should've known…

Jut behind us Marla and Aaron were interviewing with yet another news station. "No, it's not over. We won't get justice till Demetrius --"

Quickly escaping those two, Greg was then swarmed by a horde of microphones and camera's and I was shoved into the background.

"Mr. Sanders, Mr. Sanders, do you think the verdict was fair? Was your killing Demetrius James excusable?" One reporter questioned. Oh, how I would have loved to shove that tape recorder down that media hounds throat.

Before Greg could answer and before I could get back to him, a friendly arm wrapped around his shoulder, Stanley Tanner appearing from nowhere. "This kid saved my damn life. He is a hero, a genuine hero."

Thank God someone besides me knew that.

* * *

Greg had gone into the lab to make sure it was okay that he was bailing on what little he had left of a shift. He and I had taken separate cars to the courthouse so he told me to go home, that he'd be there as soon as possible. I shrugged and agreed, stopping to pick up two orders of Chinese food and a six pack of beer before returning to the townhouse we shared.

I'd only just sat down when I heard his key in the door. "I got us some food." I greeted, pulling him onto the couch beside me after silencing Maverick, my psychotic dog. "You alright?" He handed me several sheets of paper, filled with legalities he didn't need to deal with right now. "A civil suit. Why can't they just give you a break, baby…" I read over the list of involved parties, the state, the county, the lab, Greg, all held the possibility of being held accountable for the death of a murderer. "Is there anyone that they're not suing?"

"We knew it was gonna happen. They weren't gonna give up that easily." Greg monotoned, reaching for a pair of chopsticks and one of the containers of food.

That wasn't all that was bothering him, I could tell. "Did Grissom say something to upset you?"

"No, why?"

"He questioned my behavior in court today. He knows we're together." I admitted, I wasn't worried, Grissom was no king of gossip.

Greg fell back into the cushions after disposing of the jacket he'd been stuck in all day, he ran a hand through his hair, sandy brown locks becoming more scattered, more Greg-like. His tie was gone next as well as the shoes he despised wearing. "You could tell Grissom the secret to world domination and all he would do was study it."

"He won't tell." I assured him. "If not Grissom, and besides getting served, why are you so shaken, I can see it in your eyes, that's not all."

He wandered into the bedroom, returning a moment later in his favorite pair of jeans and my A&M sweatshirt. "In the garage, Aaron was there."

"Did he try anything?" I almost wanted the answer to be yes, just so I could justify arresting the bastard.

Greg's head fell into my lap, finally relaxing after his horrible day. "He was in his car, glaring at me. He floored it when he pulled out of his parking spot. I jumped out of the way." His arms would around my waist, my fingers in his hair. "I was scared, Nicky."

I growled, wishing for a few moments alone with that idiot. I don't take threats lightly, and that's exactly what Aaron had done, he was sending a message, telling Greg that this wasn't anywhere near over. "I'm not letting you out of my sight…"

"Good, we can go to the alley, then."

That was not the reaction I had expected to my comment. I had predicted some form of protest about how Greg didn't need a babysitter, how he didn't need me to protect him. "Now?"

He nodded, something else I hadn't expected. "Now."

"Alright. Just let me go change."

* * *

Forty minutes later we were standing in the alley south of Casino Central Drive, the Tahoe parked just behind us. Greg was lost in his own mind again, events of that night surfacing, my arms around him.

"It looks a hell of a lot different during the day." He stared at the graffiti covered walls, the chalk lettering I'd written earlier still there. "It all happened in seconds, but it felt like years to me."

"I know it did." I nodded, it felt like decades in that damn box. "I wish I'd been here with you."

"Why? So we could both get beaten up? Fourteen on two is just as bad as fourteen against one." Greg replied, eyes scanning over everything, taking in every detail, he'd seen the crime scene photos, paint transfer on the Denali, his own hair, the rock, blood pools, everything.

"Maybe of there had been two of us they would have bailed."

"All I was supposed to be doing was going to pick up a sweatshirt from Sofia. If there hadn't been an accident on the main road I wouldn't have even been back here." I watched as he slid back into the passengers seat, the long day wearing on him.

I sighed and did the same, a reassuring hand on his knee. "Greggo?"

"Yeah?"

"It's over now."

He nodded, giving me a rare real smile. "I know, Nicky. I know."


End file.
